


To Be or Not To Be

by Ykmust



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Confusion, Cultural Differences, I Tried, M/M, Multi, Other, Plot Bunny, Slow Build, Slow To Update, The sex isn't here yet, The violence isn't here yet, Weird speak, Will add as I write, insensitivities, snarky replies to comments
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-04-28 06:37:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5081428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ykmust/pseuds/Ykmust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki sat on the throne, what's next? He got bored. He changed Asgard, and went to play in Midgard. To play with a particular mortal, to be exact.</p><p>*********************<br/>Please, heed the tags!<br/>*********************</p><p>I am writing this for an Italian fanfiction festival, at which I saw an English prompt "I think I like you better when you are evil", and porn is required. We will get there eventually, but I treat this also as a serious writing exercise and would like to treat the plot right. Well, I am trying hard to keep my muse in check. My muse likes to joke around, you see.</p><p>If you stumbled upon this by accident, I hope this piece pleases you. Your comments, feedback and suggestions would be greatly appreciated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Writer Likes Internal Conversations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bluemary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluemary/gifts), [RenneMichaels](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenneMichaels/gifts).



"No, thank _you,_ brother." Loki laughed drily and risked taking off his glamour as his brother turned away to walk out of the hall, with glee in his strides, his mood so plain for all to see.

_Yes, you foolish oaf, go back to your precious little mortals and play house for a few more years. While they last._

Snorting out of contempt, Loki reclined back into his throne and slouched, Gungnir held loosely in his right hand, tilted and leaning on the golden hand rest. He had a look of boredom in his eyes, as he took in the hall in front of him for the umpteenth time since he sat there, trying to drown out the soft tinkering of repairs that could be heard all over Asgard.

It was mid day, two days after the defeat of Malekith the Accursed. Or rather, ' _the triumph of Thor Odinson over the Dark Elves_ '. Oh, Loki had no doubt that's what the historians and scholars were writing down in the royal scrolls.

The hall was without guards. The vaults and prison were guarded, the rest of the guards and warriors were given respite to reunite with their families, and to lay to rest their fallen comrades. When Loki delivered this order, the generals had put up weak protests, concerned they no doubt were of Asgard's safety, yet within their cores were warm beating hearts weary of battles and concerned for their families and loved ones. It did not need a Silvertongue to persuade them to go along with the decision.

Tomorrow evening, there will be a feast in the great hall to celebrate Thor's triumphant battle against Malekith. Loki liked feast not a single bit, but that was what Asgard needed, and so it had to be done. Feasts after battles for all battled warriors to tell glorious tales of their heroic deeds and give toasts to those welcomed into Valhalla, amongst them their beloved Queen Frigga.

Loki's eyes dimmed at the thought. The guards had told him that Frigga was given a solemn send-off with grandeur fitting of a benevolent and beloved Queen.

The Golden Realm was still recovering from the Dark Elves' attack. The throne room was the first place to be repaired. Not a crack could be seen on the numerous massive columns supporting the golden hall. The golden floor sparkling without a trace of burn mark or Aesir blood. The throne remoulded overnight. All made possible by the craftsmanship of Niðavellir, the best all Nine Realms could offer.

He has sent Odin's ravens to Niðavellir as soon as the battle was over and he was not surprised to learn the dwarves had already gathered their most talented with the best tools and precious metals, ready for the All Father's summon.

Niðavellir dwarves were a passionate kind, hot-blooded and proud of their craftsmanship, and most important of all, forever loyal and steadfast to those who earned such respects from them. The All Father was one of those, apparently.

Their realm's eternal fire created the Golden Forge that could merge metals with Sedir and runes, giving power and life to the gems and metals baptised by the scorching heat from their eternal forge. Their best smith Andvare was held with the highest respect by all dwarves, even Hreidmar the Dwarven King. Last evening, the entourage of a dozen dwarven smiths filed into the throne room with Andvare in lead, offered their condolences and respects for the late Queen, and pledged their Realm's allegiance in restoring Asgard to her glory. They were personally offended by the Dark Elves' destruction to the Golden City, as most of the entourage were probably old enough to have participated in the constructions of most of Asgard's defences and weapons.

_Well, judging by the lengthy brown or dark braids and beards, they might have been a novice or apprentice at that time. That old smith with white beard and hair and a hunched back, though, was probably old enough to have been a master at that time. He had kept nodding approvingly when Andvare was speaking on behalf of them, and his eyes had a strange glint, eyeing Gungnir._

After the elite team of Niðavellir masters finished working on the throne room, they have split up to assist in different parts of repairing the city's defences and structures. It turned out Brokkr was the old smith's name. Loki couldn't recognize him in his old age. Time was cruel on dwarves, affecting them more than Aesirs. Brokkr had perhaps another hundred years or less, Loki reckoned.

While all of dwarves were well trained in blacksmith, they had their preferred _Schools_ _of Artisanship._ Not that most Asgardians would care to know. Dwarves were maticulate with their skills just like Asgardians would pride their physical strengths. To refer to them all as 'blacksmith' would be offensive. They had split their training into thousands of streams. Some dwarves liked architecture, some liked transportation systems, some liked weaponries, some liked arts and some liked wearable objects, so on and so forth. Brokkr's eyes gleamed with contained excitement as Loki suggested he extend his help repairing the force shield and weapon systems. And Andvare was more comfortable with carvings and volunteered to fix Borr's statue by the waterfall.

_Andvare. That stoic hasn't changed at all. Well, if one doesn't count his pepper and salt beard and hair._

Loki's lips curled into a smirk as he recalled how he, as a young prince of Asgard, at a feast welcoming the Niðavellir's ambassador, had _persuaded_  Andvare into a bargain that resulted in him obtaining all of the smith's possessions. The _transfer of ownership_ of the cursed ring Andvarenaut was the ultimate reason why _both sides_ wanted to strike the bargain in the first place.

Andvare would give Andvarenaut to Loki for eight days, in exchange, Loki would offer the sad miserable smith eight days of happiness. It was a small bonus that the smith offered all his possessions to Loki in gratitude for taking on the bargain.

The bargain was truly fair and honest. Loki would still frowned upon this.

After all, to bless Andvare with happiness, one simply needs to remove Andvarenaut from his possession. The cursed ring had many powers, but it casted a shadow of impending doom over its owner, washing its owner in wave after wave of misery.  

In the end, it was not Loki who broke the bargain, or did he cheat. If Loki was later accused of being unusually joyful and boisterous at the feast, approaching Andvare and engaging the poor smith in merry conversations, thus planting the seed of envy in the smith, well, who could really prove that?

Andvare, who had owned the cursed ring for centuries, simply couldn't cope with the long lost taste of happiness and was driven into a state of insanity the next morning, much to everyone's especially Loki's dismay. The entourage was scheduled to depart in mid-day, and that could have been the last he would had to hear of it. However, as the Niðavellir ambassador gave a departing speech on behalf of the entourage, Andvare interrupted the speech by bursting into tears and began singing an ode of joy complete with a traditional dwarven dance. Despite the smith's reassurances that he was fine, the All Father was alarmed at the overnight change in mannerism of the stoic smith, and that was when he noticed the missing ring on Andvare's thumb.

It was needless to recount what happened next, but that was how Odin had gained unwavering respect (and for Loki, unwavering hatred) from the dwarves. Loki let out a soft sigh, stopping his trip down the memory lane.

_If only I could keep the ring until the eighth day. Count on the 'righteous' All Father to mess up my 'devious' plans._

Speaking of the All Father. Loki looked to the direction of the chamber where Odin currently rested, and huffed.

_Well, I might as well take a walk. Perhaps to the kitchen? They are preparing an important feast, after all. Who's peckish? Not me._

At that, Loki rose from the golden throne, struck Gungnir to the floor, restored his glamour, and started descending the dais.

_Norns, my back side is hurting me. Maybe I should put a cushion on the throne. No wonder why the old man was always so moody._

Loki tried to wriggle and ease his ache as inconspicuously as possible while he walked across the throne room.

_It surely is not easy to move with grace at old age. Did the old man continue his training and sparred regularly? I know Fury kept on with his physically training._

_That one-eyed leather-fetish 'Let me know when higher power wants a magazine' Director of SHIELD._

Loki's lips pursed at the thought.

_Seeing Clint getting his arse handed to him by Fury or Natasha is definitely one of the favourite memories I've read from this pitiful mortal's mind. His little trip to Budapest, the second._

Loki made an amused hum as he finally reached the end of the hall, he straightened his posture and headed for the royal kitchen.

_Why a magazine anyway? I have no use for guns but they are effective on mortals, aren't they? How curious._

* * *

 

And if later that evening Andvare received a note from Odin commissioning a new throne that was still solid gold but felt like a sofa, and the poor smith then stayed up all night to research what a 'sofa' was, and finally had resorted to sheepishly ask the All-Father the next morning, that's all in your imagination. 

 


	2. I Would Rather They Not Speak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What does the King of Asgard do? Something with mead, apparently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story is sort of how I imaging the blanks left from the movies could be filled, at least to bring a bit of freedom and closure. I do not know the comics well, or, at all. And I am fixing those parts that looked like jokes to me.
> 
> And from my POV, Loki does not know everything. There are still surprises and new knowledge for him. TBH, he is a young prince, after all. If he was indeed well-travelled and had seen enough walks of life in his one thousand of years so far, he would not have fallen apart quite as devastatingly as he had when he found out about his true heritage. But I would give him credit as a well learned mage, who would try to find out as much as possible about whatever that caught his attention, and very much like Tony Stark, could become an expert in astrophysics and gamma radiation overnight if he wanted.
> 
> Reviewed partially, due to my on-going writing process, by the one and only RenneMichaels! I am so touched!
> 
> Credits should also be given to this site: http://www.yodaspeak.co.uk/index.php . You will know why.

Morning rays pierced through night's cloak of darkness, basking all in its reach in a golden hue, ending another sleepless night. Cool autumn wind was blowing with a slight chill, this was as cold as Asgard would get. At the edge of the floating landmass that was Asgard, early morning mists from the waterfalls were rising.

Loki stood in the centre of the royal couple's bedchamber, hair dishevelled with a menacing look in his eyes. At a closer look, one could see the godling's chest rapidly rising and falling in pace with his rushed heaving for air. Loki pressed the sole of his palms onto his eyes. He let out a frustrated groan and as he curled his hands into tight fists, he could feel his fingernails scratching his face. Slowly his arms lowered and he took in the mess the chamber was now in. An etched and gilded steel vase which used to stand on a nightstand next to the bed, was now lying next to his feet, the wooden nightstand in pieces none resembling its original form. Loki swung his arms slightly backwards, he let out another groan of frustration and a violent energy surge radiated from his tall frame, sending the wood pieces and vase flying to the nearest wall, the collisions gave several dull thuds.

The fact that a steel vase cannot be broken did not give the upset godling the satisfaction of a destructive tantrum. Loki dragged himself towards the vase, his gait not fitting his status, nothing like his usual stride.

He stood in front of the vase as it finally came to a halt rolling from the wall. His gaze roamed to the wall it hit. A linen tapestry in faded gold and burgundy, taking up most of the space is the world tree with intertwining roots and branches with small leaves and a thick trunk, to the upper left a large raven with spread wings, to the upper right a sword and a swine in armour facing left. The tapestry was hanging from the ceiling, long and wide enough to cover most part of the wall on this side of the bedchamber, directly in front of the bed. The swine in armour could be Hildisvini, and the sword, both Frigga's symbol. Loki could guess he was looking at one of Frigga's tapestries, brought to Asgard with her from Vanahelm as a part of the peace offering, adorned with the symbols of Odin and Frigga as a union of both Asgard and Vanahelm, in Odin's colours. If Loki was not as shaken by his dream right now, he would muse the Vanir dared boldly placing Frigga's symbol parallel to Odin's, in spite of having just been defeated in war, and that Odin had allowed it in their royal bedchamber all these years.

Loki shakily took a deep breath, the soft voice of his mother from his dream again ringing in his ears against deafening silence.

_"Am I not your mother?" Her last question left her chalk white lips stained with red blood in a ghostly whisper. She was looking at him from above, as if he was lying on his back. He couldn't utter a word._

_"Always so perceptive about everyone," his mother brushed a cold fingertip against his cheek, "but yourself." With a soft sigh the Queen took her last breath, she closed her eyes and her illusion dissipated into tiny golden sparks._

_"Mother!" Loki tried to lift his hands but found himself immobile._

Loki blinked several times as he collected his wayward gaze down to the vase's patterns. Dark ravens and golden runes lined the edges. He crouched down and traced his fingers on the cold hard surface, feeling the metal rising and falling along the patterns. The godling's expression was impassive as his breathing levelled.

oOOo

Having washed his face from a water basin, Loki put on Odin's glamour and pushed open the door from the bedchamber and stepped into the royal private quarters. The real All Father or not, he had duties to perform.

"Good morning, my King. You are earlier than usual, today." He was greeted by a maid. She looked almost Frigga's age. Loki had never seen her before, perhaps she was one of Odin's personal maids. To be honest, Loki had been waiting for such encounters since he took on the All Father's form, meeting someone he could not name.

Growing up in the palace, he has never been close to the servitors except his owns. The royal family members each had their own personal attendants and their grounds of activities are very confided to the royal member's own chambers and parts of the palace where they had to be. And as all servitors in the palace, they were very good at concealing themselves using secluded doorways and passages. Even as a child exploring the palace with Thor, they had seldom came across anyone in those paths. Today was the first time a maid was present in the royal couple's private chambers while he was also there.

"My King, are you well? We are all concerned for you since our Queen has passed." By now Loki could be certain she was one of Odin's or the royal couple's personal maids. Her comment was simply too personal. In lieu of a reply, the maid has started walking towards her King.

Loki hastily raised a hand and the maid halted in mid step. "Thank you for your concern, I am well, Agða." At that, Loki took in a sharp breath, "I mean…" He simply stopped mid-sentence as he slipped out of character beyond repair.

_You fool! Have the dream shaken you so badly? This is pathetic._

"My King, Agða was sent to work at the kitchen since Prince Loki---," the maid eyed him with worry and gulped, "Breakfast has been prepared," she said with a small smile and gestured at the basket of bread, assorted meats and fruits on plates and a jar that Loki could guess was grape juice, set on a small side table next to her, "please try to eat more today, you need sustenance."

At that, the maid, still unnamed, slid past the All-Father towards the bedchamber. A soft gasp could be heard as she stepped past the doors.

The smell of freshly baked bread and grape juice was welcoming. It was the same breakfast he was served every day when he was still a prince of Asgard. During his imprisonment, Frigga had sent him grape juice occasionally as well. It would seem that the love for grape juice was something the royal couple has passed on to at least one of their sons.

_Sons? What happened to your dignified shouts of 'You are not my mother'?_

As Loki sat down for breakfast, he wondered how one could stay mad at the deceased. He felt ire rising at the thought of the lies the royal couple had fed him, and yet he felt conflicted insisting what were truths and what were lies when no one was around to care.

During the meal, Loki shifted his thoughts to the tasks he had planned out for today. His mood took on another turn to dread. It would be a long day before the feast in the evening, which would make a long night.

oOOo

"All Father." The guards at the treasure vault doors saluted Loki as he stopped in front of them. They opened the door for him to pass.

_Lovely. If only I was indeed here to steal._

As soon as Loki saw the doors shut and locked behind him, he dropped his glamour. It was after all, quite inconvenient to see with only one eye. And it was not like anyone would come in here unless he called for them.

Loki hoped this was where he would find what he was looking for. Only one scroll in the Royal Library carried a short verse mentioning this item, and none of the scrolls he read mentioned where it was stored, and if this item truly existed, only the All Father would have had seen it. But he was certain every myth had facts to back it up. Well, maybe not all, at least not the one where he did it with a stallion. The difference was, his story with the stallion was not on a scroll in the Royal Library. And what he was looking for, was. The same scroll related to this, also documented a verse describing Odin sacrificing an eye for knowledge.

_And don't I see the result of that every day now? Or rather, 'not' see?_

Loki had been in the treasure room numerous times. The last visit was not what he would call a fond memory. In fact, none of the memories here could be called as such now. He still remembered Odin holding his and Thor's little hands, showing them the various trophies and spoils of wars in this room.

_And oh my, I didn't realise I was just one of these._

Loki walked down the steps, he remembered where Odin has fallen as he screamed his anger to who he once thought was his father. He remembered how he screamed for the guards as soon as he realised the old King has fallen into unconsciousness. The fragile form that was the mighty King Odin scared his younger self. It was the first time he had witnessed the OdinSleep. It was not until Frigga told him so that he ceased worrying he had somehow hurt the King he was taught to admire, to protect.

_And to love._

As Loki reached the last step, he looked for the door he knew was there. He remembered there was a door in the shadows of the dimly lit treasure room, to the right of the end of the hall. Loki looked at the wall at the far end, and started walking forward. A new Destroyer was hidden behind that wall emitting opalescence blue light with black oval pattern.

_Again, in my command. I wonder if its fire blasts are still as scorching as the last one. Oh, maybe I should find an excuse and try it out on Thor again._

The last column in front of that wall where the Casket of Ancient Winters was, was now empty. Loki had no intention to return it, even though he was the King of Asgard now. But he also found that neither did he had any intention of taking anything from the treasure vault.

_It simply… Lacks the thrill._

He turned to the right, and pushed the hidden door. It opened with a soft click, and slide to the side, reviewing a smaller dimly lit room.

_Even if it's not here, whatever's in here would be interesting to see. Unless it's empty. Oh, how anticlimactic that would be._

_Oh well._

Loki gleefully strolled into the room, and to his surprise, the room lit up brightly. Torches lining the walls ignited and orange lights reflected off the golden walls giving more intensity. There was the sound of water dripping accompanying the cracking of torches. Despite the lack of visible ventilation, there was a cool soft wind blowing. The dark stone floor also had square water pools at the edges connecting the walls.

There was an item on a half column at the end of the room.

_Aha!_

"Hello, Mímir. For a moment, I thought you were indeed just a myth."

He has found Mímir. Or to be exact, his head.

"Thought me a myth, you did not." Mímir answered with a leer in his bright brown eyes.

_Oh, how peculiar._

"Odin, you are not." The head kept talking. "An imposer, you are. Yes, hmmm."

"Well, I have already removed my glamour, have I not?" The Trickster replied.

"My vision is limited to this room, not."

_Okay. I guess the speech pattern is his personality and not how people talked back then. I mean, Odin certainly did not talk like that. Or, is he being irritating on purpose?_

"I see. So, you are like Heimdall?" The Trickster rocked on his heels, temporarily setting aside his real intentions for his curiosity.

"Me questions, you ask. But I shall answer, not." The head answered with an annoyed frown. "Given me my mead every morning, you have not."

_Was that a pout?_

"Mead? Every morning? Was that what Odin did too?"

"Yes."

_Who knew a head could nod without a neck? Not me._

"Does it really matter when it's delivered? Sounds terribly… Tedious, if you ask me." Loki grinned, politely.

"It matters not." The head gave an annoyed huff and shut his eyes.

 _Guess he just prefers the mornings. If this is what it takes to make_ _him talk, it is truly a small price to pay. There are things I need to know, if he is truly as wise as the scroll says._

"I shall be back shortly with you mead then." Loki gave a little bow in good grace and exited the room without any response from Mímir.

oOOo

It took a short while for the guards to return with a generous goblet of mead. Mímir hummed approvingly as Loki held the goblet to his mouth for him to drink. If Loki tilted the goblet too sharply too fast, Mímir would make noises of protests.

"Clumsy, you are." Commented Mímir as Loki waved his hand to magick away the spilled mead.

"Would you like your next mead turned into snakes?" Loki retorted.

"Do you seek answers not, hmm?" Mímir gave him a look. Loki sighed. "Ask away now."

"What did Odin use you for?"

"He did use me not. I offered knowledge and counsel." Mímir stated calmly.

"So it says on the scrolls. Be specific."

"Of war during a time, discuss strategies, we would. Of peace during a time, discuss politics, we would. But you ask me if, just another form of war, politics is." Mímir gave Loki another look.

_So Mímir was Odin's trusted counsel._

"What about… his House? Did Odin talk about his House?" Loki had to know. He had to know if Mímir was part of it. He had to know if this proclaimed wise man had a hand in the lies he was fed.

"Yes, he did. We talked a lot about you, the baby from Jotunheim. Yes." When he looked at him next, Mímir's gaze was sharp and knowing.

_He knew! He was a part of it!_

Loki was rushing up the stairs out of the vault before he realised it. His knuckles white from gripping the goblet too tightly. He came to a halt at the top of the steps and put on the All Father's glamour just has he opened the doors.

He wondered, of the lies he grew up with, how many was spun by Odin and how many was by Mímir. And how many was by Frigga.

oOOo

The conversation with Mímir has left Loki restless. He retreated to the palace garden and stood in front of a terrace overlooking the Golden City. The roars of waterfalls in the far distance was merely a soft rumbling in the background, as was the rustling of dry leaves from the wind, and his own breathing. The thoughts rushing across his mind was loud and deafening.

Suddenly, there was the sound of wings fluttering. Loki looked up to see Huginn and Muninn approaching. He did not extend his arm for the raven brothers, unlike what the All Father used to do.

"Imposer! He dares order Huginn and Muninn around." Huginn shouted, as he landed on the balustrade, soon joined by his brother.

"Oh, spare me the theatrics. You do realise no living souls without the power of Gungnir could understand you?"

It was a mild surprise when years ago, Loki first entered the Throne Room holding Gungnir, which he had just received from Frigga, and was greeted by a coarse voice he couldn't locate. He still remembered acting like a fool searching for the origin of the voice before he noticed the raven brothers standing on top of the Throne, their beady black eyes following his movements.

"Traitor! You shall meet your fate one day." Muninn joined in.

"I do beg your pardon, Muninn. I _am_ the rightful heir to the Throne. Now that Odin is… How should I put it… Not available for his duties, I am simply stepping in to help."

"Lies! You were never born to be king. Sooner or later, you will be exposed, little trickster." Chimed Huginn.

"Lies, indeed. Lies told, not by me, but by the All Father. Excuse me when I say, I didn't notice you voicing your disapproval at him all these years." Loki retorted not without mirth. "Not that I would have understood your cries then, anyway."

"Huginn does not cry!" "Muninn does not cry!" The two ravens practically screamed.

_Norns, my ear drums._

"Apologies, I mis-spoke. Now, may your grace please tell me what news you bring from beyond Yggdrasil?"

"Perils, perils! Perilous journey Huginn and Muninn embarked on!" "Rue the day! Rue the day! There was nothing in the Void!" "Darkness, silence, coldness and death." "Perils, perils, Huginn and Muninn escaped."

"Again with the verse. They are rather poorly constructed, I am sure you two are aware?"

"Leave us be, Trickster. We've told you what you wanted to know."

"Not quite, I'm afraid. If it's indeed nothing you've found, you simply have not gone deep enough into the Void."

"Too much he asks of Muninn!" "Too much he asks of Huginn!" "Trying to kill us, he is!" "He is!"

"I reassure you that it is not your deaths I seek. What would the Raven God be without his ravens? I am sure even your bird brains can apprehend that." Loki reached for Huginn's head but hastily withdrawn his hand as the raven snapped its beak to bite him. "The All Father had carved runes onto your claws to protect you, look down your own feet if you need a visual reminder. It's unlikely you two will be harmed, what's in the Void is not looking for you, for he has set his sight on a shiny blue rock."

"He still searches for the Tesseract?" Muninn asked with a tilted head. The ravens do not understand emotions and desires.

"It matters not what he has set his sight on. Rest for now, you two, then fly into the Void again and locate his army. This is for Asgard's safety. Obey your King's command."

"Cruelty!" "Torture!" The raven brothers cried once more and flew off into the distance.

Loki pinched his nose bridge to ease his growing headache.


	3. Avoidance Issues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do you do something else when you don't want to do a certain thing? That's what I did. Maybe Loki did too? Nah, I don't think so. The writer just didn't want to write about talking with the warriors three. They give her headache.
> 
> I am very sorry for the short chapter.

Loki's gaze flickered to the two guards flanking the dais.

_No matter how many times I set sight upon these helms, they just look downright ridiculous._

It was after midday, warm sunlight was shining into the throne room from the slits and gaps between patterns on the wall behind the dais. There was no shadow casted by the numerous columns in the hall. The golden hall was self-illuminating and bright at all times of the day, such was the qualities of the gold forged by the dwarven smiths in their Golden Forge.

As a young prince, Loki had climbed up one of these columns, certain that he would find the runes that the smiths embedded into the design, much to Agða and Frigga's dismay. And to his own dismay, that he couldn't locate any runes or patterns that would suggest Sedir was infused into the gold. He also recalled Thor laughing and loudly cheering him on from the ground, which was why he got caught.

 _'Thor, you oaf!' w_ as the first thing he said as he slid back to the floor, before he was chastised by Agða and Frigga.

A tall broad figure came into view from the end of the hall, interrupting Loki's thoughts. The figure stopped in front of the dais, dropped to one knee, lowered his head and saluted the All Father by placing one hand on his heart.

"Rise." Loki saw deep golden eyes and wondered what stars the Gatekeeper was setting his sight upon. Heimdall rose and stood there, waiting for the All Father to speak.

"How fare you, Gatekeeper?" Rumbled the All Father.

"Well, thank you, my King. As well as circumstances allow." Answered the Gatekeeper in his baritone voice, expression solemn.

"Indeed. Asgard has took a hit to her heart, and yet," the All Father paused, "we shall rise stronger, and more glorious than before." Another paused. "You have been summoned here today, on the matter of your act of Treason against the Throne during the Dark Elves' invasion."

"I understand, my King. I do not deny my actions and I am prepared to face punishments for my actions."

"So I noticed. I also notice that in recent years, you have taken on a habit acting on your own free will against the Throne's explicit orders." The All Father mused.

"My King, if I may speak on my defence." The Gatekeeper was tense.

"You may." The All Father waved his hand that was not holding Gungnir.

"I merely act upon my will to protect Asgard's interests."

"How so?"

"When Prince Thor came to me for help, he made a very persuasive argument. I agreed with him, and my King, the results ---"

"So you say, Gatekeeper, that the ends justify the means? Or, that I should blame Thor, my own son, for your act of Treason?"

"No, my King, I was wrong and I take full responsibilities for my judgement."

"Or, the lack of." Scoffed the All Father. The Gatekeeper gulped visibly, and hung his head in shame. The All Father continued, "And what of your betrayal of Loki when he sat on the Throne? Did Thor convince you that Loki had nefarious plans somehow even though he was on Migard? Need I remind you that he, as a legitimate heir to the Throne at that time, was as much your King as I am now?"

"All Father, I understand the loss of Prince Loki for a second time ---"

"Had you stood by his side, I wonder, would he had fallen so far?"

There was nothing but silence in the golden hall. The Gatekeeper twitched uncomfortably.

"Heimdall."

"Yes, my King."

"You must be aware, your abilities as Asgard's Gatekeeper might be indispensable. Yet," the All Father contemplated his words, "have no illusions that you are irreplaceable, should the needs arise. Do bear this in mind."

"Yes, my King, I understand. I pledge my loyalty to the Throne, to you and when the time comes, King Thor."

"I only have myself to blame, that Thor's charisma draws people to follow in his lead, even against my orders. Suppose, I need not worry where your loyalty lies shall he be king one day. Now that Loki is no longer, your loyalty to the throne is unlikely to be tested in the foreseeable future. Do you agree, Gatekeeper?"

"My King," the Gatekeeper breathed out heavily, "I do regret the loss of Prince Loki, and I had seen my errors in the past years. Although we had our disagreements and we were unable to reconcile, he was remarkable and protective of Asgard in his own ways. I couldn't understand him then, nor do I claim to now. However, he died a true warrior and Valhalla's halls are certainly livelier with him."

_Interesting. It seems everyone has a soft spot for the dead. And did Heimdall just made a jest of his reputation as a Trickster God?_

"As for your punishment, Heimdall."

"Yes, my King."

"You are to assist the dwarves in the reconstruction of the force shield's core, I want the shield to be fully activated in half the time it took, with additional activation panels in the Throne Room. I want an additional layer added that fits the Golden City's structures like a second skin, with shields covering the openings of various terraces, balconies and hallways permissible only to live Asgardians. Describe and provide as much data and test objects from the invasion as possible to the dwarves, the shield's durability must be enhanced and be responsive to damages to self-regenerate."

"My King, those are very ambitious alternations, I am not sure the existing technology ---"

"The old shield was dated, laughable, and not fitting Asgard's state of advancements! Call my alternations aggressive, ambitious, whatever you may, but find a way to fulfill my will, you shall!" The All Father took deep breath. "You have until the fortnight to complete this task with three trials to confirm the shield is fully functional. Such is your punishment for your failings, and your way of redemption as Asgard's Gatekeeper. If I were you, I would think it lacked the severity you deserved." At that, the All Father struck Gungnir to the floor signalling that his decisions were final. "Dismissed."

"Yes, my King."

**Author's Note:**

> Did you find any parts confusing? Was there tiny details that would be better left out or added? What would make this chapter's story telling more interesting? Did you find anything seriously offensive or inappropriate? Is there additional warning tag required? 
> 
> Please let me know :)
> 
> ❤ If you are not a commenting type of person, a kudos would be extremely encouraging  
> ❤ A big thank you for reading  
> ❤ Plot bunnies and suggestions welcomed


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